


A Soft Touch

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Sexual Dysfunction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 11:22:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Not everything the Galra did left Shiro with visible scars. Keith learns to roll with it.





	A Soft Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a prompt on FFA.

“K-Keith, wait,” Shiro gasps. “Stop, it’s not—it’s not working.”

Keith’s tempted to redouble his efforts, to make this _work, dammit_, but the sharp tug on his hair is impossible to ignore. With one final swirl of his tongue over the head of Shiro’s cock, still soft and flaccid in his mouth, he backs off, breathing heavily through his nose. “Shiro?”

Shiro’s thrown his arm over his face, but Keith doesn’t need to see him to know that he’s flushed and twisted up with shame and embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” Keith hears him mumble as he clambers back up, hand over hand, settling against Shiro’s chest. His heart patters anxiously beneath Keith’s palms. “I didn’t think—I was hoping this wouldn’t be a problem.”

“It’s not a problem, it’s fine,” Keith says. He tries to pry Shiro’s arm away. “Look, we don’t have to—”

“No, it’s—” Shiro swallows, throat bobbing. He lets Keith lift his arm away, but his eyes are squeezed shut in mortification. Still, small victories. “You wanted this,” Shiro says.

“I _want_ this,” Keith corrects. He brushes his thumb over the scar atop Shiro’s nose bridge. Then, softer, pressing the words into his jaw, Shiro’s skin rough with stubble beneath Keith’s mouth: “I want you.”

Shiro lets out a hollow laugh. “Even if I can’t maintain an erection?” He says it clinically, flatly.

“It’s not a big deal,” Keith says. “Happens to everyone.”

“Everyone,” Shiro echoes.

There’s something ugly and wretched lurking beneath the surface of his words. Keith doesn't hesitate, meets it head-on. “How long’s it been like this?”

There’s a lengthy silence. Shiro swallows. “Since the Galra,” he says. “I’ve tried, on my own. But I can’t—” His breath shudders out of him. “I don’t know what’s wrong—”

“Shiro.”

“—whether this is temporary or if I’m broken for good—”

“_Shiro_,” Keith says, and then, when Shiro doesn’t even seem to hear him, he lunges forward and kisses him, partly because he wants to and partly because he needs to interrupt him before he spirals even more.

It works. Shiro makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat and grabs at him instinctively, hands settling against the small of Keith’s back as Keith pours every ounce of love he has into the contact. By the time he pulls away, Shiro’s breathless and dazed and panting, and his eyes are open, startled wide and dark with arousal.

“You’re not broken,” Keith says lowly, viciously, cradling Shiro’s face in his hands. His groin is heavy and aching with heat, but he ignores it. Ignores everything but Shiro, beneath his hands, _here_, alive and warm and solid and _hurting_ beneath his body. “We can work through this, okay?”

Shiro’s nod is almost imperceptible, a minute jerk of the head. “Okay,” he says, lips moving beneath Keith's thumb.

“Okay,” Keith repeats, mouth twitching. He kisses him again, softly, then sits back. “Now tell me,” he says, “how do I make you feel good?”


End file.
